


forgiveness (the price of your greed)

by emiliaslibrary



Series: carmina ad vitam inspirat [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, How Do I Tag, Mild Language, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliaslibrary/pseuds/emiliaslibrary
Summary: “We’ll never get free, Tommy,” Tubbo whispered, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy whipped his head around, eyes darting from his enemy to his best friend quickly. He began to shake his head when a voice cut in-“Look at him. Tubbo—a picture of innocence, isn’t he?” Dream’s hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword. His voice was calm as he continued, “Lamb to the slaughter. That’s the price of your disobedience, Tommy. What will you do when I spill his blood?”Or,A reimagining of Tommy & Tubbo meeting Dream, inspired by the song "blood // water".*"graphic violence" is an exaggeration, but tagged just to be safe.*
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: carmina ad vitam inspirat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122848
Comments: 3
Kudos: 108
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	forgiveness (the price of your greed)

**Author's Note:**

> this work is inspired grandson's song blood // water. i recommend listening if you really wanna get the vibe. either way, enjoy! :)

Adrenaline was entering his system quickly, causing his thoughts to quicken and his mind to sharpen. It happened before every battle. It did not cause his inner worries to silence, though. They continued marching through his brain, as sure as every breath he took. There was no reason to deny it . . .

Tommy was nervous.

His pessimism was quiet in the face of Tubbo’s optimism, but in the realm of his own mind—his thoughts turned to their potential demise.

Was he scared of his own death?

No. No, Dream wouldn’t kill him. But he would try to take away everything Tommy cared about. His discs, his country, his Tu-

Tubbo. Dream would kill Tubbo. And that thought sobered him completely.

He focused on his best friend—his smile, the way the corners of his eyes scrunched with happiness, the full belly laugh that happened when he told a particularly funny joke—and tried not to think for the rest of their journey.

* * *

They had walked into a trap.

The lift edged down the wall like molasses. The base was surrounded on all sides by brick that stretched upward for a mile, with a large, shimmering purple veil situated in one wall. The only possible exit, as they had been looted of all of their items.

Idiots. A bloody idiot is what he was. Tommy had led Tubbo into slaughter. Tubbo stood to the left, placed slightly behind as Tommy tried to edge in front of him. A human shield—he would sacrifice everything for his friend.

Dream stood in front of them, his posture indicating his relaxedness. There was no expression to be see, that damn mask was in the way, but a content sense of victory oozed from his very self. Confidence, thy name is Dream. Behind Dream, Tommy’s disk were held in a frame, too far out of reach for an easy rescue. Not that Tommy would risk Tubbo, anyway. Dream knew this and was taking advantage of his hesitation fully.

“We’ll never get free, Tommy,” Tubbo whispered, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy whipped his head around, eyes darting from his enemy to his best friend quickly. He began to shake his head when a voice cut in-

“Look at him. Tubbo—a picture of innocence, isn’t he?” Dream’s hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword. His voice was calm as he continued, “Lamb to the slaughter. That’s the price of your disobedience, Tommy. What will you do when I spill his blood?”

As fast as a shot arrow, Tommy turned towards Dream. Anger lined every part of him—from the top of his head, through the sinews of his legs, to the tips of his toes. His hands shook and his foot made to step forward on its own accord, when a hand grabbed his wrist. He made to shake it off, but the grip only tightened.

“Don’t, Tommy. Not for me.” As he spoke, Tubbo released Tommy and stepped forward. With a raised voice, “I know my people aren’t happy. My time as President is over . . . the river has run dry. I won’t let you hurt him, Dream.”

“Tubbo! Tubbo—no!” Tommy yanked him back, once again returning to that protective stance.

Dream stilled his movement, “I won’t kill Tommy. But I will take away everything he cares about. That includes you, Tubbo. I can’t control him with you left alive—however, I will allow you this. Say your goodbyes.”

When Tubbo turned to meet his gaze, there was no tears. A vague hint of sadness was visible, but his lips didn’t tremble, his hands didn’t shake. Tommy’s eyes were blown wide, his breath coming too quick. Not Tubbo—he couldn’t lose him, he couldn’t lose him, he couldn’t lose him he couldn’t lose him he couldn’t lose him he couldn’t lose him.

Hands gripped his shoulders and shook. He dragged his gaze up excruciatingly slow, lips parted as he exhaled. A corner of Tubbo’s mouth twitched up in faint amusement.

“Look me in my eyes. Everything’s fine. It’s okay, Tommy. I’ve had my time, and it’s been a good one!” His voice was soft, but it turned firm, “Let me go, Tom.”

It was Tommy’s turn to smile, albeit sadly. He gently removed his arms from Tubbo’s grasp. When he spoke, it was quiet enough to be heard by only them.

“What would I be without you, Tubbo?”

Before anyone could blink, Tommy launched himself toward the Axe of Peace. Somebody screamed—but it was a distant sound when compared to the roaring in his ears. He forced the weapon from its mount on the wall before hurling it at Dream. Dream blocked, moving to cut Tommy down. But Tommy was already in motion.

He ran towards him, dropping just before reaching Dream’s legs and sliding right past him—barely missing being split in half by a sword. Tommy came up into a crouch, reaching blindly toward the handle of his axe. Twisting, he moved to bury the weapon in one of Dream’s legs, only for his arm to scream when the axe bounced off the white of a shield.

Distraction. He just needed to distract him long enough-

Dream’s sword etched a line on his calf, creating a steady stream of blood. Tommy hissed, but didn’t look at the injury. He wasted no time in bringing the axe down on Dream. No success. He was facing one of the best fighters on the server. If he continued for much longer, his life would be forfeit. He made a split decision, went one direction—

But Dream was already predicting his next move, and Tommy could not draw blood from the older man. His endurance was beginning to fail him. This was not a fight he could win.

Dropping his weapon, Tommy invaded Dream’s personal space in a last-ditch effort, managing to get past the menacing sword. Surprised, Dream took a half step back, but Tommy was not going to waste his momentum. With a force that was backed by desperation and rage, he threw his fist straight into that unforgiving white mask. A satisfying crack ensued.

The older man cursed, lurching back while simultaneously pushing Tommy away. Letting himself stumble aside, Tommy ended up kneeling on the ground, breathing harshly as he clutched his injured hand. A trickle of blood, from an injury cause by the tip of the sword, ran down over his eyebrow and obscured his vision. He didn’t see Dream rotate his shoulders, dragging his teeth over his lip during a ragged exhale—didn’t feel the sword tip scratch his throat until it was too late.

It was a haunting image . . . the young hero collapsed before the enraged villain. Youth bowing to Death itself.

The mask had cracked. Through it, only one eye was visible—and it was squinted in fury. Chest heaving, Dream said softly, “Beg me for mercy.”

“Admit you were toxic!” Tommy spat, teeth stained red from the blood on his lips. “You manipulated me—you poisoned me! For what, Dream? Control? Just say it!”

He knew he had lost. Dream towered over him, an aura of victory like a shroud over his shoulders. He prodded his sword forward, forcing Tommy’s chin upwards. Inhaling sharply, preparing to give his victorious monologue—

Dream never got the chance to speak.

Tommy saw the blade meet Dream’s neck first. Not harming . . . yet. He followed the line of the blade to the hand holding it—saw the red draped over broad shoulders, the fangs poking out of the corners of a mouth, the braided pink hair and the crown sitting snugly atop it.

Technoblade’s voice was hard. “Move and you die.”

Tommy would have cheered if he wasn’t being held at sword-point. His laughter might have been tinged with a hint of insanity as fierce relief swept through his gut. “Techno! You came!”

Techno sent him a grin that was all teeth.

“Drop the sword, Dream.”

“Yeah! Suck it, Green Boy!”

“Tommy.” The monotone voice admonished.

But Dream let his sword clatter to the ground, his hand coming to rest back at his side. Tommy rose from the ground quickly, taking the opportunity to locate Tubbo. His best friend was standing farther back with his hand covering his mouth. Tommy beamed and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Returning his attention to the others, he bent down and scooped up the discarded weapon. His thumb grazed over the hilt where some inscriptions in a foreign language were carved, and he spun it in a quick circle.

Dream had yet to speak, so Tommy filled the silence.

“Now, I am the violence.”

Techno echoed him, following his sing-song tune, “I am the sickness.”

Another breathy laugh escaped him. Tommy jutted his chin out proudly, “I won’t accept your silence, Dream.”

He locked eyes with Techno and flicked his fingers in a downward motion. Immediately, Technoblade’s foot found the back of Dream’s left knee, forcing him to kneel. His hand was buried in Dream’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat, not allowing the blade to move even an inch from that vital tissue. A distant echo of Tommy being in the same position flashed through each of their minds—causing the youngest boy to let his lips curve into a victorious smirk. Taking a step back and turning on his heel, he made to walk away.

He did not walk far. Only another step, before twisting quickly back toward Dream, sword outstretched. The tip paused only a centimeter away from the man’s face.

“Beg me for forgiveness,” Tommy mocked, not flinching even as two new people entered the scene. He was riding a new high. His abuser, completely at his mercy. He had never felt more powerful.

Letting his hand drop, he glanced at Sam and Sapnap as they approached from the portal. Their faces were grim, and they were cloaked fully in netherite armor.

“The price of your greed, Dream?” he continued, “I’m taking away your control.”

The two men stood on either side of Dream, both grasping an arm tightly.

“I hope you enjoy the prison, big man.

_You’ll never get free.”_

**Author's Note:**

> hello loves!
> 
> i never thought i'd be writing about a minecraft smp . . . but here we are! just to clarify: this is written with the idea of them being the characters in the smp. definitely not them in real life. writing fanfics about real people is a weird idea for me, so imma abstain from it. anyway.
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed! i was listening to the song while driving home and this whole scene just played out in my head, so i had to write it down and share.
> 
> for this series, i plan on each work being inspired by a specific song. so keep an eye out for that! 
> 
> also . . . i’ve never written a fight scene before. thoughts or tips? 
> 
> have a fantastic day!
> 
> bye for now,  
> guys, gals, & nonbinary pals :)


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